The Bonfire Within
by Desertfyre
Summary: Shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam, GuiltyProtectiveDean
1. Prologue: The Coldness Within

Disclaimer: As much as I love the Winchester brothers, I do not own them.

A.N:  I was thinking about the infamous line in Metamorphosis and my mind went off. I was like there has got be some Limpage that I can play with. This is the result. Major, major Limpage follows. That and it's been awhile since I wrote a multi-chapter story and wanted to do that again. (And the fact that I haven't written a serious S4 fanfic yet. I think I have sorta silly one. I haven't even thought of a story for S1 or S3 so I hope to get an idea for those seasons sometime. A shame not to have at least one fanfic for each season, don't you think?)

As usual with multi-chapter stories, I have it all done, but give me a couple of days to upload. Thanks.

Warning:  This does deal with the mind going off and not in a good way... So at times we could get an M rating. Nothing explicit. I can't really explain, but just know that sometimes, you might need a more mature view to understand what's going on. And I guess there is some suicidal tendencies in this as well. I just feel like I should say something in reference to a warning for this story.

Summary:  Takes place shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis and before YF. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam; Later GuiltyProtectiveDean

* * *

Prologue: The Coldness Within

Just because you are breathing, it doesn't necessary mean you are alive.

There is more to being alive then just a monotonous in and out motion.

And just because your heart is beating doesn't mean that you are alive either.

There is more to being alive then just a thump-thump of a sound that echoes 24/7.

Sam found that out the hard way when Dean died.

His heart still beat within in chest, and his breath still came out of his nose.

But he wasn't alive.

His heart, body and soul died the day Dean took his last breath.

After that, he just existed.

Merely existed going through motions, finding a way to survive.

Desperately finding a way to survive.

He tried to find a way to get Dean back.

Even if it meant only an exchange of places.

Oh, how he tried, but he soon he knew that it was a lost cause.

So he found another away to survive. It seemed like it was the only thing that helped him survive.

Helped him continue the war his family started long time ago.

So he existed with the thump-thump and the in-out but he wasn't alive.

He wasn't warm either.

He had grown cold.

His mind, body and soul had ceased to produce any semblance of warmth.

And we are not talking about mere physical warmth.

It was cold.

And everywhere Sam turned, all he saw was ice for miles around.

A frozen Arctic tundra.

There was no fire.

No nothing.

Nothing.

But then, Dean came back, unexpectedly yet it made Sam no less happy and slowly, a fire began to rebuild within Sam's chest.

And soon the ice melted, and warmth was able to steal into his being again.

The tundra melted.

And soon he felt more alive than he had in four months.

He was alive.

And the thump-thump and in-out meant more than just simple functions.

But then it seemed that the fire threatened to go out.

Again.

The fire he just got back.

_It's already gone too far, Sam. If I didn't you know... I would wanna hunt you._

The look of sheer disappointment in Dean's eyes, the disgust that Sam saw there, made his being slowly regress.

Dean's reaction was worse than any action he would have inflicted on Sam.

And he slowly felt himself grow colder and colder.

And this coldness seemed worse than when Dean died.

Much, much worse.

It was losing Dean it the worst possible way.

And Sam feared that more than anything.

But he didn't know if he could fix it.

So, he just grew colder and colder.

And maybe this time, that coldness would engulf him completely.

**TBC….**


	2. Chapter 1: Becoming Colder

Disclaimer: As much as I love the Winchester brothers, I do not own them.

A.N: Heed the warning in the prologue as we begin this delicious Limp ride. ;p That's all for now. Please enjoy!

Summary:  Takes place shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis and before YF. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam; Later GuiltyProtectiveDean

* * *

Chapter 1: Becoming Colder

The Impala pulled into a motel that claimed it had vacancies. They had just crossed the border into Illinois and away from the events in Missouri. Both boys were eager to put it behind them, but both for different reasons.

Dean wanted the entire case in his rear view mirror along with what he found out about Sam. He could not run from that completely, he knew, but he could very well, put that behind him.

To try to deal with it and move on.

Dean knew that he didn't handle the situation as well as he should.

He had tried to bring it up during their ride, but Sam seemed pretty adamant about not talking about it.

Sam didn't even seem like he accepted or rejected Dean's apology either way.

In fact, Dean noticed, that Sam seemed greatly reserved since the hunt was finished.

It was starting to bother Dean that he didn't even want to talk.

Dean felt relieve though, when Sam said he was done with his powers, though something in Sam's tone bothered Dean.

But Dean just continued to ignore it and brush it off.

Sam on the other hand, felt the case was a little too close to home. He was counting on Jack being able to overcome his nature. If he could, if anyone could for that matter, that Sam could see, then it would mean hope for him.

And that was another hope dashed.

If Jack couldn't, what did that say about him?

He told Dean he was done with is powers.

He wanted it to be his choice if he quit or not.

He needed this to be a choice.

Dean cut off the engine and they both just sat there for a moment. Neither seemed to budge. Dean glanced at Sam who was just looking out the window. He didn't even know if Sam knew where they were. Dean looked over to the office, then sighed.

"I'll…..go get a room", he murmured, and without waiting for an answer he got out the car and proceeded to the office.

Sam let out a small sigh and glanced to see the back of Dean as he disappeared in the office. He looked out his window and swallowed, blinking. Slowly, he opened the car door and stepped out. It seemed a great effort for Sam to do anything since the case was done. He closed the car door to, just as Dean came back with a key.

There was silence as they gathered their stuff and went inside their room, and began to set up for the night. After all that was done, which wasn't much or long, Sam eased down on his bed, his back to his brother as Dean perched on his own bed.

The tension and awkwardness was high.

Dean glanced at the back of Sam. He looked down at his hands, as he found himself asking quietly, "You alright?"

He saw Sam nod out the corner of his eye.

"You don't look it."

He saw Sam hunch over slightly.

"Come on, Sam, what's wrong?"

" …'m, cold."

Dean stated the obvious. "Then either get under the covers or put on another jacket. Maybe you can fiddle with the heat if they got any."

"….'m not 'hat kinda cold" Sam murmured.

Dean rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. He didn't feel like playing this game, so he didn't bother to ask further.

Later on, he would realize he probably should have.

So instead he stood up, "Hungry? We can find a restaurant or something."

Sam glanced at Dean out the corner of his eye. He didn't get it.

And what's more Dean wasn't trying to get it.

And that hurt more than Dean not getting it.

But he wasn't very hungry. He seemed to have lost his appetite. So he shook his head in response.

"You want me to bring something back for you?"

Sam just shrugged.

Dean's temper flared slightly. He was getting tired of this quiet game, Sam was playing. He was hungry and he needed a drink and some sleep. He had a very trying couple of days and he didn't feel like dealing with anything.

Later he would have wished he did though.

But as of now, he snapped, "Fine, but if you get hungry in the middle of the night, don't come crying to me. I'm gonna go eat and probably go to the bar. Don't wait up."

And without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and slammed it behind him. Muttering to himself, he got back into the Impala and drove off.

Sam just sat still, in the darkness of the room unmoving. Finally, of his body own accord, he laid down on his side, his back still facing away from the door. He made no move to unmake the bed or take off his boots or jacket, as he wrapped his arms around his middle and held himself. He just stared unseeing in front of him.

A small shiver escaped him.

It just got colder for Sam.

**TBC….**


	3. Chapter 2: Running

Disclaimer: As much as I love the Winchester brothers, I do not own them.

A.N: I know these are pretty short chapters diving in here. It gets longer next chapter...

Summary:  Takes place shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis and before YF. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam; Later GuiltyProtectiveDean

* * *

Chapter 2: Running

Sam didn't know how long he laid there just staring. It must have been quite awhile because before Sam knew it, the door opened and Dean came back in.

"You awake?" Dean asked seemingly uncaring whether he just woke him now or not.

Sam only shifted in response.

Dean rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his coat. "Look, I'm not in the mood for this, okay? I just ate, and had a few ones. So I'm gonna ask one last time, what the heck is wrong with you? You haven't even undress or took a shower or anything? You're exactly like I left you minus the fact you are lying down now."

Sam only shifted once. Something compelled him to try again. "….'m, cold."

Dean groaned and snapped. "What? Look, get under the covers like a sensible person. You have all your clothes on plus your boots for crying out loud and you still cold? What, you can't figure this out? Have you even gotten up to check the heat?" Dean walked over and looked at it, "Of course not!" He turned it up slightly, then went about gathering his clothes for a shower.

"….'m not that kinda cold, Dean", Sam only replied quietly shutting his eyes.

"Sam, I just told you, I can't deal with this. Whatever your problem is, it's gonna have to wait", Dean snapped with a warning note in his voice as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

He didn't know why he felt so snappish with Sam. He really didn't want to deal with whatever emo issues Sam was having right now.

There was just way too much going on for Dean to deal with all this. He couldn't believe Sam! How could he just ignore a promise he made and then lie about it when Dean question him about it. Then Dean just happen to find out.

Okay, well, the angel Castiel directed him. If he didn't, would Dean know about it now, or would Sam still have continued in keeping it from him?

It just made Dean madder and madder the longer he kept thinking about it.

Why does Sam keep saying that he's cold like he's a stupid five year old child?

It was pissing Dean off.

He grumbled as he stripped and then hopped in the shower.

* * *

Sam slowly unfolded himself and sat perched on the edge of the bed. He glanced at the closed door of the bathroom, out the corner of his eye.

Slowly, he hunched into himself, hugging his body. As far as they have traveled, as much as he tried to forget it, he couldn't. Still it replayed in his head, even now.

It echoed and bounced off the walls and ceilings of his mind.

_If I didn't you know... I would wanna hunt you._

He reached up a hand and banged it up against his head in an effort to knock it out. It still wouldn't come out. It wouldn't stop echoing.

Stop repeating.

It just wouldn't…..stop!

A small sob escaped Sam. How could they go forward with this in the air?

Dean was right.

Dad was right way before Dean could even see it.

Way before Sam could believe it.

Now Dean could see it.

He could see it.

He did see it.

It should have ended long ago.

Had he really fallen this far?

Was he really this far gone?

Suddenly, the air seemed thicker and heavier in the room. So much so that, Sam felt he was drowning.

He was drowning.

His throat worked convulsively.

He needed to get out.

He needed air.

He needed to stop drowning.

He needed fire amidst the ice he kept seeing.

He needed fire.

Unconsciously, he shot up out of his seat and turned and practically ran to the door. He tripped on the strap of a bag that was hanging out. He squatted down, his logical side being reminded, even in the mist of the whirling chaos in his mind, and pulled out a small gun for protection against the night and tuck it in the waist band of his jeans. He threw open the door and took off running in no specific direction, leaving the door flying open after him.

He was vaguely aware of his name being called but still he ran.

Running from the memories...

From the hurt they provoked...

Running to something that would stop the coldness...

Just running...

**TBC….**


	4. Chapter 3: Losing it

Disclaimer: As much as I love the Winchester brothers, I do not own them.

A.N: Yeah, the warning kinda starts kicking in as we could began fluctuating between T and M rating.

Summary:  Takes place shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis and before YF. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam; Later GuiltyProtectiveDean

* * *

Chapter 3: Losing it

Dean had stepped out of the bathroom just in time to hear the door bang open and to see the door flapping in the wind as his little brother's body slowly worked on becoming a dot him.

He called Sam's name as he rushed to the door. It didn't get a response as he watched his brother disappear from his view.

Worry and anger warred within Dean.

For the moment, anger won.

"Dang it!" Dean hissed, shutting the door to and locking it, "What the heck is that boy thinking? Probably gonna go meet Ruby or something!" He flopped down on the bed after pulling the covers back. "Fine, go ahead, see if I care. See if I even wait for you in the morning, Sam!"

He simmered in his anger, muttering to himself as he pulled the covers over him. "Huh! At this rate, see if I even let you back in when you come crawling back!"

He flipped and turned in bed, still muttering in anger to himself. The anger finally wore off after awhile and worry began slowly replacing it.

There was something about Sam's run.

Something written in his body language as he ran.

Something that was niggling in the back of Dean's mind.

Something that just wouldn't let him go...

"What?" He asked thinking out loud, "He has been pretty withdrawn since the hunt even for his standards."

But did Dean even know his brother's standards anymore?

It pained him, that the thought even crossed his mind.

But it was true.

He didn't really understand his brother.

He didn't even know what he had gone through.

How much he changed over four months.

And that's what made Dean shoot up in bed, his eyes wide.

Yeah, he was pissed when he found out about the secret that Sam was keeping from him and yeah he stood by his words, but did he really even listen to Sam? Did he let Sam pour out his heart? Dean had no idea, what Sam went through when he was in hell.

Not even an inkling.

Yes, him working with Ruby would still be nine kinds of crazy and twenty kinds of wrong, but he still should have let Sam at least explain himself.

At least if Dean had listened, had allowed Sam to explain himself, he might could have toss his brother a bone and give him some wiggle room after he explained the 101 reasons why he was working with Ruby and exorcising demons with his mind. Dean could have at least understood why Sam might have been desperate to do such a jacked up thing.

And suddenly, Dean was out of bed, throwing on his street clothes and grabbing his keys and unconsciously, grabbing a gun out of the bag, for protection, before heading out the door. Locking it quickly, he got in the car and started his search.

He needed to find Sam.

And he needed to find Sam now.

* * *

Sam ran until he could run no longer. He didn't know where he was as he slowed to a walk. With a small sob he leaned his hand on the brick building next to him. Slowly, he used that as a crutch as he continued to walk.

There was no one around.

He was alone.

Both inside and out.

The wind whipped a few times. Autumn was slowly settling in, and the night air was chilled and getting colder and Sam felt it.

Both inside and out.

It seemed fitting that his situation inside was matched by the one outside.

A small hysterical laughter escaped him, as his hand came upon thin air. He looked over and saw a long alleyway.

A long dark tunnel….

Just like his mind.

Another hysterical laugh escaped him, louder still as he stumbled down the alleyway, using his hands to brace himself on the walk as he walked.

"I'm a friggin joke!" he laughed, "A joke. A joke!"

Sam knew he was losing it as he laughed as if it was indeed the funniest joke he ever heard. He braced himself on the wall, his back flat against it, his head tilted back as he just laugh. Tears pours out of his eyes.

_It's already gone too far, Sam. If I didn't you know... I would wanna hunt you._

And those tears slowly became faster and faster, as his laugh gave away to sobs. Slowly, as his legs seemed unable to support him, he slid down the wall. Something knocked at his tailbone and he grimace. With a small sigh, he reached behind and pulled it out, intent on throwing it away from him until he saw that it was the gun he grabbed.

The gun for protection against whatever may be stalking the night streets right about now.

But did that include himself?

_If I didn't you know... I would wanna hunt you._

Sam 's breath came out shaky.

He never meant for it to get this far.

_He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, that I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you. _

His father foresaw this event before either of them did.

Why else would he have said such a thing?

Back then, Sam didn't believe it.

He desperately fought against it.

And even when his faith wavered, Dean's never did. He vowed so strongly that he wouldn't. That's he'd die before he would.

But didn't even Sam manage to weasel Dean into promising that if he went too far, that he'd kill him.

So, did Sam even have any right to feel bad about the words that Dean uttered?

_If I didn't you know... I would wanna hunt you._

But now it was clear that Dean no longer had that faith about him.

Not that Sam expected him to.

Dean was right.

His father was right before Dean even began to catch on.

He was a monster.

A monster that needed to be stopped.

But how could Sam ask such a thing of his brother.

He wouldn't.

He couldn't.

He reached up and clutched his hands to his head, rocking himself.

How did it come to this?

How could he have fallen so far?

He was far gone and it took Dean to give him a wake-up call.

He should have seen it before.

But he was so desperate.

If he hadn't been so desperate, would he have seen?

Or was it that in his desperation, that he chose not to see?

Sam shut his eyes, wielding them tight, but still tears leaked out of his eyes.

If he no longer had Dean's support, then what good was anything?

If Dean didn't approve, then there must be something seriously wrong.

Where did he go wrong?

He had promised to uphold their family values, to continue fighting.

And he failed at that.

He banged his head on the back wall, his hands falling away to flop boneless in his lap. He looked up at the sky, unseeing. Almost unconsciously, he brought up the gun up, cocking it as he did so.

And a few seconds later...

.

.

.

.

.

.

...It went off.

**TBC….**


	5. Chapter 4: And then there were three

Disclaimer: As much as I love the Winchester brothers, I do not own them.

A.N: Pretty evil cliff-hanger back there huh? I admit after I wrote it I was literally chuckling evilly and I also admit I purposely uploaded to that point and stopped. hehe. Thanks so much for all the alerts/favs/reviews! I particularly enjoyed reading all the reviews! Now on with the story as I'm sure you want to hear less from me right now and more from the story. lol

So without further ado, full Limp ahead!

Summary:  Takes place shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis and before YF. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam; Later GuiltyProtectiveDean

* * *

Chapter 4: And then there were three...

Dean drove down all the streets, searching for any sign of his brother. This town was pretty small, he wouldn't be surprised if most people had a bed time.

Yet still, with this little bit of help, he still found no sign of his brother.

Worry was edging on full blown panic.

Each time he replayed Sam's run away from their motel, the more he inched his way to panic.

There was something wrong with him.

He was sure of it.

He should have talked to Sam, made him talk.

Now the longer, that Sam was out of his sight the more he worried. He had no idea what was going on in his mind.

And if he did find out that Sam was okay and was with Ruby, he was so beating the crap out of Sam for making him worry like this.

And that was promise.

Then why did that nagging voice in the back of his head said it's far more than that?

He turned down the next street which was deserted. Dean swore he saw a piece of paper blow across the street like in a western movie. The buildings were all boarded up on this street. He doubted if anyone lived here in a long time.

Then he heard it.

At least he thought he heard it.

It sounded like a bang up ahead.

Even if it wasn't Sam, he felt compelled to check it out since he heard it.

In fact, he was feeling a dread that he couldn't quite shake off, for some reason. He parked the car to where he thought he heard it and clamored out. He crossed the street and started walking out.

"Hello! Hey!" he yelled out, hoping to get some feedback.

He got none.

Something in him made him quicken his pace as he passed an alley. He stopped and looked down it. Seeing nothing, he walked past another building before coming across the next alley. In this one, he thought he saw something move.

"Hey", he said cautiously as he turned and slowly walked down it, pulling out his gun for safety, "Anyone here?" he asked.

He came upon a body and after squinting he figured out who it was.

It was Sam, who sat on the ground, against the building, long legs stretched out in front of him, head hung, looking dejected.

Dean glanced around once before lowering his gun. "Hey, what was that? Did you hear that bang? It sounded like a gunshot."

He saw Sam shift but other wise didn't acknowledge his presence.

This time, that worried Dean instead of making his temper rise.

Dean took a step forward, "Sam?" he questioned uncertainly. Then he glanced around the alley, searching for anything out of place. He still held the gun, ready to bring it up and shoot at moments notice. "You okay? Did you get jumped or something?" he asked and strangely there was no ire in his voice.

There wasn't any answer.

Dean took one step forward, "Sam?"

". . . . . . . . . Hey, Dean, come to execute me?" came a soft voice, leaden with a heavy sigh, after another moment had passed.

Dean reeled back. ". . . ." He tried to say something as his mouth opened but nothing came out the first couple of times he tried.

Finally he was able to get something out, "...E-e-excuse me?"

Dean was greatly disturbed as Sam laughed once. "No worries, I got it covered." He held up his gun. "There are four bullets still in here. That means I have four tries to get my nerves up." He chuckled, "I already shot the wall there." With the gun in hand, he gestured to the wall.

Dean glanced at said wall. Since Sam mentioned it, he saw that it had a bullet in it. Dean guess that was the shot he heard a few minutes ago.

"Got good aim", Dean gave a nervous chuckle, still put off by what Sam said, "We should go. I don't think there was anyone else around, but I don't want to stick around and find out." He glanced over his shoulder briefly before fixing his glaze back on his little brother.

Sam made no move to budge and Dean saw that clearly. Dean tensed as Sam brought the gun up and shot somewhere higher on wall in front of him.

Sam laughed once, "And then there were three." he sing-song it in a somewhat low, raspy, creepy voice, that made the hairs on the back of Dean's neck stand on end.

Dean had half a mind to ask if he was possessed and throw holy water on him (even though he didn't have any with him) but he realized that this was not the time for so-called jokes. And it bothered Dean to see that this was indeed a grave situation playing out in front of him.

He swallowed thickly, "Sam…." His voice was raspy, "Come on…..wha…I…"

Dean didn't know what to say. He couldn't even say the obvious, which was that Sam was wasting bullets. It didn't even come to mind. He was still stuck on what Sam said:

_Hey, Dean, come to execute me?_

As if that was an everyday greeting.

Bang.

Dean jumped lightly.

"And then there were two."

Bang.

"And then there was one."

Silence followed for a little while as Dean stared at his brother.

"Um, Sam?" he finally was able to get out.

"Hmmm..."

"Why don't we head back to the motel?"

There was no answer on that.

"What did you mean when you said that?" Dean asked instead.

"Hmmm..."

"Sam, why did you asked, if I came to execute you?" he pressed repeating himself, "What would make you say that? Why did you say that?" Dean couldn't get the rasp out of his voice.

There was a momentarily silence until it was broken by a very soft voice. Dean had to strain almost to catch it.

"Do you know what it's like...to try so hard? You try so...so...hard and none of it makes a difference. To know that you try so hard and to know it doesn't make any difference."

Dean didn't like the way Sam sounded.

It was scaring him.

Then Sam, unexpectedly, let out a small choking sob, "You try so hard! And nothing you do is right. You ever felt like that? Like you are just a failure of epic proportions!" Sam's voice got a slightly louder and more hysterical, "And you try! God, you try! And it doesn't make one bit of friggin difference!"

Dean shifted and prayed his voice was calm, when he was anything but, "Sam. Sam, calm down, okay? Just calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Sam yelled finally looking at his brother.

And from where Dean stood, he saw clearly the storm in his brother's eyes. A storm that frightened him like never before.

"I am calm! Can't you see I'm very calm!" Here Sam laughed hysterically near falling over to the side, "Just calm as a cucumber!"

Dean was getting desperate now. "Please, Sam. I'm gonna sit by you, okay?"

He made a move towards Sam but stopped suddenly when Sam shook his head.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Dean asked.

Sam looked away. "Don't bother. I know you can't stand me. How can you? Look at me! I'm a monster!"

Dean replied quickly, "Sam! Don't say such a thing. It's not true!" He made another move to go to his brother's side.

It was then Sam brought the gun to his temple and made Dean stop dead in his tracks. His heart beating louder than he ever thought possible. He raised his hands, having already put the gun he had away somewhere in the midst of the conversation, in a placating manner.

"Put the gun, down Sam", he managed to say evenly.

"You were right. Dad was right."

Dean hated that Sam sounded defeated. He needed to get that gun to lower. "Sam….Sam please. Please…..what are you talking about? We were right about what?"

Sam let out a bone weary sigh and if possible seemed to sink deeper into himself as he drew his knees up and hugged them to his body. "Dad said you that you might would have to kill me someday. And he was right. I was so far gone; I am so far gone…." Sam corrected, "….and I didn't even know it. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was trying so hard. To survive and I couldn't even do that right."

Dean's breath caught in his throat, "Sam….."

Sam shut his eyes tightly, "My entire life has been one big trap from the get-go. Everyone around me dies! First Mom, then Jess, then Dad…..and then you", his voice was quieter at the end.

Tears were beginning to swim in Dean's eyes, "Sam, please."

Sam's voice came back stronger, "But I managed to get through Jess' and Dad's death, even the aftermath of Mom's though I don't remember her. But then you died. And I couldn't."

Here he started rocking awkwardly his voice breaking, "I just couldn't. I did what I thought was right, but it wasn't right. It never was. But I was so desperate to just..." He trailed off then.

Dean's stiffened, when Sam pressed the gun harder at his temple. "Do know what it takes to be alive?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked slowly.

"Do you know what it's like to be cold?"

This slapped Dean in the face as he was confronted with this for the third time. He felt as if he missed something vital the first two times. He couldn't help but wonder if he had pushed to know either of the first two times that maybe...just maybe they wouldn't be here.

And that hurt.

It killed Dean that they were at this point, just because he missed the cues both time.

Was it how Sam was crying out to him?

And he just ignored him.

This time, he wouldn't make that mistake.

He only prayed that it wouldn't be too late...

**TBC….**


	6. Chapter 5: Bonfire

Disclaimer: As much as I love the Winchester brothers, I do not own them.

A.N: Nothing to say really. This is the longest chapter of this story and also second to last chapter. So hope you enjoy.

Summary:  Takes place shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis and before YF. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam; Later GuiltyProtectiveDean

* * *

Chapter 5: Bonfire

"_Do you know what it's like to be cold?" _

Dean glazed down at Sam through teary eyes. He decided to go back to the obvious again, not knowing how else to start understanding what Sam was saying. He only hoped that Sam wouldn't shut him out if he didn't get it right the first try.

He didn't want to pay the price for a wrong answer.

The stakes were too high.

Way too high.

"It is a bit chilly tonight", he stated slowly watching Sam closely.

As he thought, Sam answered, "Not that kind of cold."

Something loosened in Dean momentarily as now he knew he could go a different route. That maybe Sam was giving him one last chance. "I don't understand. What do you mean?" he asked carefully, hoping that Sam didn't misinterpret that he really was trying to understand this time, that he wasn't pushing him away again.

He noticed that Sam glanced at him though he was staring down at the ground in front of him. He took it as a good sign.

"It takes more than breathing…it takes more than your heart beating to be alive", said Sam.

Dean opened his mouth but was unable to say anything. He didn't know where Sam was going with all of this. He felt as if he was walking on a land mine, and any wrong step could be fatal. He felt stretched between trying to understand Sam, but making sure that in this state that Sam didn't misinterpret anything he said or did and in turn did anything drastic.

"There a warmth that lives inside of you. That should live inside of you. There is a fire, a bonfire, that should blaze strongly within you. Only then, can you be truly alive."

"How do you light this….bonfire?" Dean found himself asking. He figured if he just kept Sam talking then they could get somewhere. Anything, that didn't involve pulling the trigger.

Sam gave a small laugh, "It lights up differently for everyone. And sometimes one can go their whole lives and not know how it was lighted."

"That's good...?" Dean stated uncertainly.

"That's bad", Sam's voice was flat and Dean's heart sink as he tightened his grip, "It's bad, because if you knew what powered it, it means you lost the fire. Whether you get it back or not, is immaterial."

Dean felt like the answer was right in his face, but Sam was always the one that could understand this psycho babble that he was presenting. Dean needed it to be written out a little more plainly then that. But he didn't want to risk, Sam thinking he wasn't understanding or trying to understand. In this state anything to set Sam off. So he opted for silence.

It drifted for awhile awkwardly.

Dean opened his mouth and tripped over his words trying to move it along since Sam showed no intention of doing so. "So….this fire…..that you have in you….it's…out?" Dean throat constricted and he prayed he was saying the right thing. So far that is what he got out of it.

"I didn't realize this fire, so intently, until I had lost it. Then I had found it…..but now it's gone and it's colder than ever."

Dean had never seen Sam look so lost as he did this moment.

And it frightened him.

A breathless sob slipped from Sam's lips as he shut his eyes, "I was warm with you and dad and even after Dad died, still maintained warmth, you know?"

"Yes." And Dean did. He was slowly beginning to be able to follow.

Sam continued, "And I was warm for so long. And then you died." He sobbed. "You died….and that warmth left and I was cold. I was cold for four months, Dean and I had no way to rebuild that fire. I don't even know where in me, was the bonfire resting. It just went out the moment you breathed your last. I remember watching the hellhounds. I remember feeling that fire began swirl as if a great gust of wind was blowing inside me. Then it began to waver and flicker and eventually it went out. I remember the feeling so vividly, it still hurts to think about sometimes."

Dean couldn't help at this point for tears to start pouring down his face.

"While you were in hell, I merely existed, but I never lived. I just survived, that's it. Just survived the only way I knew how. But then….but then you came back", he gave what Dean would term a relieved chuckle with his choked voice, "And I felt that fire rebuild, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker until it was as bright as I remember it being. And everything was fine. I felt alive again. I was alive again."

Dean felt some dread coming upon him. Sam did say, he had the fire then lost it, then had it. So if he had the fire before Dean died, then lost it when he died, then regain it after Dean came back, Dean dreaded knowing what made him lose it this time.

And what's more he felt that it was right in front of his face, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Why was everything eluding him nowadays when he needed it most?

Sam only sighed, his grip on the gun relaxing but Dean found he couldn't take comfort in that.

The calm before the storm he was sure.

"I was alive", Sam's voice had wetness to it; a finality that Dean didn't like, "I was alive…..but that's over now. It's over. The fire's out and there's no rebuilding it. I feel cold now." He shivered, "And this coldness is worse than when you died."

Dean swallowed thickly. If it was worse than when he died, then it was pretty bad and he feared what this was. Hesitantly and slowly, he took another step forward, trying to placate his brother, "What's over? And what is worse than my death? Please tell me, Sam. Please, I want to know. I want to understand. I do."

"You were right", came Sam's reply.

"About?" Dean asked. He was desperate to get on this train Sam seemed to be on, so he could stop it.

"I can't ask you to do it. I wouldn't ask that of you."

"What? What?"

"I wouldn't ask you to kill me. To hunt me."

And Dean had to reach out blindly and steady himself on the wall, with one hand, as he was psychically ill.

_It's already gone too far, Sam. If I didn't you know... I would wanna hunt you._

Those words came back to haunt him as he retched off to the side. He closed his eyes tightly as he slid to his knees. He didn't mean them like that.

He didn't mean it.

He was angry and was desperate to get Sam to see how desperate his situation was.

He never meant to lead Sam to this.

Never.

He wiped his mouth on the coat of his sleeve, the tears pouring down his face in rapid succession now.

Sam gave a bitter laugh as he looked at Dean. "It's okay. It really is. I mean, we knew it would always come to this."

"No", Dean's voice was weak as he looked at Sam, so he cleared it and got out a firmer, "No."

Sam was glazed at him a moment before his grip tightened as he closed his eyes. "I just want to you know that I really am sorry. I'm so sorry." He murmured turning away from his older brother.

"SAM!" Dean snapped, "Please, I'm begging you, okay! You can't do this." His voice cracked, "I never meant for it to get this far. I didn't mean it. I was desperate and wanted you to stop but I was so worried that if I couldn't that Cas and the angels would. And that scared me. And then, yes, I was pissed when I found that you didn't keep your promise and started in on your powers and working with Ruby. And yes, I was pissed that you hid it from me, but Sam I could never pick up a weapon and execute you. I could never hunt you. Never. Please, please believe that!"

He saw Sam's frame tremble as it seem that he decisively and indecisively, continued to grip and ungrip the gun. He shook his head. "It's okay. It's okay." he kept repeating as if trying to convince himself.

Dean shook his head firmly, and slowly scooted over bridging more of the gap between them. He only prayed his words bridged the gap inside Sam as his body slowly covered the distance outside Sam. "It's not okay. What I said, could never be okay."

"No", Sam moaned bringing up his other hand to clutch at his head effectively shielding his face. "No, you don't have to. You don't have to anymore. You aren't expected to keep that kind of faith. Things change."

Dean was confused but he had to remain calm. He asked, "What do you mean?"

"Long time ago, you were sure you wouldn't have to hunt me. You hated that dad even suggested a thing, but now after seeing everything. After seeing the capabilities, you can see that dad was right and you should kill me. I should die."

Dean took a chance and inched again towards Sam. "No, Sam", he was adamant, "No, dad was wrong. He will always be wrong. I won't let him or anyone else be right about that. Not even me. But I forgot in that instance and I will forever have to bear that guilt. Sam, please…" His voice was begging now.

Sam 's face was buried in his knees, as he seemed to scrunch up into himself deeper and deeper. "I can't do this. I can't do this alone."

"And you won't have to. You don't have to. You aren't alone."

"No, I am! I am!" Sam wailed though it was muffled, "You know what is worse than your death? Its knowing that I've disappointed you so thoroughly that it becomes disgust. To know that you look at me and see nothing worth anything anymore. To look at me, and not know me anymore; not want to know anymore. To know that you look at me, and see a monster, an object of a hunt. To come back and regret that you made that deal in the first place. To know that now, you should have let me stayed dead the first time. I know that we are both alive, yet for all of that, we have more distance between us then when you were in hell and I was here. That is worse. So much worse! I'll never get warm again. Never ever!"

If it was possible he seemed to bodily collapse even more on himself. The gun was loose in his hand, as if it was too heavy for him to hold.

"Sam, I don't feel that way!" Dean cried, "I don't! I could never regret saving you. Sam….Sam…..I'm sorry. Please. I want to fix this. I have to fix this. Don't do this." Dean cried, as still he inched his way over. He never knew that his brother harbored such dark and threatening thoughts.

How was he to fix this?

He was about two arm lengths away now.

"I don't know what else to offer but a heartfelt apology and a promise to fix it. We'll fix it, like we've always did. Like we always did. Please, Sammy….. "

At this, Sam seemed to respond slightly as he lifted his head a fraction but still had his face in his knees. "I'm tired and cold. Live me be. I'm tired of fighting. Tired of surviving." His voice was dry and quiet and he seemed all out of tears now, though he could still feel the wetness on his face.

"Well that's what I'm here for. I'm back now and we'll get through this, just like we got through everything else. Don't let this be the thing that beat us. Please?"

Sam swallowed. His brother sounded so sincere, but he was just so tired.

And cold.

"….'m cold", he murmured, though uncertain why he did.

He felt slow and hesitant hands touch his shoulder and leg. He didn't move. He felt one hand slowly reach over and touch the hilt of the gun. Sam tensed, his grip tightening once and he felt the hand stop immediately.

They stayed like that for a bit.

"Sam….Sammy? Please? Let it go. "

"It's fire."

"I'm sorry?"

It's been a long time since Sam had heard that kind of gentleness, that kind of patience amidst chaos, from Dean and it made a few stray tears leak out of his eyes and pool across his cheeks.

"The gun is a type of fire. If I pull the trigger, it'll momentarily light up the bonfire I have inside of me and I'll feel warm for a brief moment."

"But it's only momentarily like you said", Dean was careful as he spoke, "And then….if you do that…..then you can never have a second chance of relighting that bonfire for good. So that it'll last a really, really long time. Then permanent coldness will settle in. And then…what do you think about mine? What do you think will happen to mine if your goes out?"

Sam cracked a small smile and Dean saw or rather felt it and gave a small hesitant smile himself. Sam didn't think that Dean understood it enough to even use the analogy and use it well enough to present his case.

It made Sam glance up a little more, peeking out from under his bangs. Dean saw the hazel eyes looking at him, though they were puffy and red. He suspected his own probably weren't any better by now. After a moment he could tell that his brother was reading him and he allowed it.

Anything to get them out of this.

He only hoped it would work.

**TBC….**


	7. Chapter 6: Relighting the Bonfire

Disclaimer: As much as I love the Winchester brothers, I do not own them.

A.N: Aww, the last chapter! :( I actually had a lot of fun milking this Limp cow. Once again thanks for all the favs/reviews/alerts! I enjoyed reading them and knowing that people were interested in this story.

Please enjoy the finale.

Summary:  Takes place shortly after S4.4 Metamorphosis and before YF. For the longest time in his life, he felt warm. Then Dean died, and he felt cold, but then he warmed when Dean came back. But now something threatens to make him colder than ever before. LimpSam; Later GuiltyProtectiveDean

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Chapter 6: Relighting the Bonfire

Sam sniffed as he loosened the gun a fraction which made Dean take what was offered. All the while, neither brother broke eye contact. Finally after what seemed like long agonizing seconds, the gun was loosened completely, only resting in Sam's palm. Slowly, Dean took the gun away and Sam watched out the gun out the corner of his eye as Dean took it and slid it a ways down from them. Then slowly, he took his own from his waistband and slid it down to the other. He didn't want any temptation to be within Sam's arm reach.

Sam lifted his head and stared at them long and hard, until firm hand turned his head away from it. Yet, still he looked at them out the corner of his eye, wondering if he did the right thing.

Wondering if it wise.

Wondering if it was a good thing that he lost his chance.

"Sam?"

Sam swallowed as eyes shifted to the owner of the voice.

"We'll get through this", Dean promised.

Sam couldn't help but glance at the weapons so close yet so far. "What makes you say so?" he asked.

"Because we'll make it so. We've been through a lot, but we keep fighting. We. You and me. And we keep going stronger when we are a team, so that's what we will do. That's why. I can't lose you, Sam. I can't."

Sam didn't say that he couldn't lose his brother. He felt he already had. Dean's hand still held his face in place, so he just dropped his glaze. "I don't blame you for being pissed. I don't blame you for what you said. I just have to come to terms with it."

"There's nothing to come to terms with, because I was wrong to say that I'd hunt you. Or rather if I didn't know you but regardless, I was wrong. I didn't even bother to listen to your side. I didn't bother to find out what you had to go through. I didn't bother to see that you suffered for four months and turned to the only thing you felt you could at the time. I still don't want you using your powers or working with Ruby, but I should have never crossed that line and say that I'd hunt my own brother. That was wrong."

Sam shut his eyes, "Things change."

"Not everything and some things should never change. Never." Dean shook Sam's face once. "Are you hearing me, Sam?"

"I heard you."

"Offing yourself is not the way out." Dean stated trying studying his brother intently, who still hadn't opened his eyes.

There was a brief moment of silence until finally Sam murmured, "Not the first time, I've tried."

Dean was stunned into silence.

Sam chuckled once and why Dean couldn't fathom to guess, "I thought about it after you died, but I found I couldn't. I didn't have the nerves just like now I didn't have the nerves. You know how stupid that is? I had the nerves to work with Ruby and enhance my powers but not the nerves to off myself. How jacked up is that?" He laughed once.

Dean frowned yet his voice was still soft, "It's not funny Sam. And I'm glad, that means some part of you knows it wrong and don't want to in the first place."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Sam opened his eyes at that moment and looked at Dean, "I don't know what else to do." he murmured quietly.

"You still cold?"

Sam's voice was quiet. "Yeah…."

It was then that Dean pulled Sam to him and wrapped his arms around him. Sam just sat there looking at the fabric of his brother's jacket.

"Then we'll have to rebuild that fire."

"Think we even can?" Sam asked rather absently like his glaze was at the moment.

"I know we can and we will." Dean stated softly though not without conviction.

There was another moment of silence before it was broken.

"You hate me?"

"What? No! Never!" Dean cried shutting his eyes.

Had is words pierce that deeply?

Of course it had.

Why would Dean expect anything less?

Sam only shifted once but didn't move away. "I hate me", he stated simply.

How could Dean combat such a statement? "You shouldn't." he replied simply.

Sam sighed softly. "I don't want to hate me. I want to find something worthwhile when I look in the mirror. But I don't. I don't see anything. " He repeated quietly under his breath his eyes closing, "I don't see anything."

"You just gotta know where to look, Sammy."

"Where is that?"

"Under the bridge overpass", Dean tried for a joke.

It worked as it elicited a chuckled from Sam. "I don't think I have bridge overpass in me, Dean."

"Well, you got a bonfire." Something loosened in Dean at the easy going conversation they were sharing, "Why not a bridge overpass?"

"Doesn't fit in the vast land of Arctic tundra that I see." Came the soft reply.

Dean swallowed. At least Sam seemed to be giving him something to work with, "So we change that."

"How?" Sam closed his eyes. He felt his older brother shrug.

"Simple, bust out the torches and start alighting stuff of fire." Dean felt his younger brother smile.

"I know that will satisfy your inner pyromaniac."

"Something is jumping for in me that's for sure."

Silence followed for awhile but neither made any move to move.

"Dean?" Sam finally questioned.

"Yeah, Sam?"

"I think I see something flickering in the distance."

It took a moment for Dean to process this, but when it did he smiled and hugged his brother closer. "Good, we'll just have to go over then and light it more. Maybe we can bring some gasoline to help."

"Calm your pyromaniac, Dean. Tell it if doesn't calm down you'll put it in time-out."

Dean barked out a laugh. "I just did, I think I made it sad."

Sam snickered as he felt some of the coldness began to leave him. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yea, Sam?"

Here, Sam pulled back and looked at his brother who raised an eyebrow. He gave a one dimple smile, "Thank you."

Dean grinned at him, "You're welcome." Then his smile dropped and was replaced with a serious frown, "You scared me, you know that, Sammy? How do I know that I won't wake up and you've managed to off yourself somehow? I can't watch every single move you make as much as I would like to. I just want reassurance that you'll be okay."

Sam stared at him a few moments as Dean stared back at him. Sam swallowed and looked down briefly before looking back up, "You don't want to leave?"

"Leave where?"

"Leave me?"

"No."

Silence and more staring.

"I've probably done things in the last four months that….that you won't like…if your reaction the other day was any indication."Here Sam couldn't hold his brother's glaze anymore and looked down, "I just….I don't…."

Dean knew what he had to do. "Sam?" he waited until hesitantly, said male looked up, "I will probably not be happy. In all likelihood I probably won't but I swear I won't shut you out, not like I did the other day. That I can promise."

Sam read Dean, gauging the truth of his words. He looked away and Dean couldn't read an answer an any direction from Sam.

"I just…..I don't….." Sam murmured, his voice getting softer.

"What?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam lowered his head, his bangs covering his face as he spoke softly, "I just don't want to go back to that coldness again. I wouldn't survive it again. Not with you here. Not like this. You know what I mean?"

And Dean did know. He knew what Sam was trying to say. He knew everything that Sam wasn't saying.

Either because he couldn't or wouldn't.

And it didn't matter.

The corner of Dean's mouth twitch, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Sam looked at him, turning his head slightly to look at him out the corner of his eye. He gave a small smile.

"So no more trying to off ourselves?" Dean asked after a moment had passed. He wanted to hear Sam agree with him.

He needed to hear Sam agree with him.

This time Sam did turn to him and answer, "Yeah, no more trying to off ourselves."

"And if something is bothering you so greatly, you'll come to me?" Dean searched his brother's eyes, "I know we've been apart for 4months…..or 40 years depending on your calendar", here he cleared his throat uncomfortable and Sam shifted once, "….but if we are going to do this. It's got to be together. I know it'll take some relearning, but we'll do that. I'm in if you are."

Sam nodded with a small smile, "Me too."

Dean grinned at his not so little brother and he saw swore he saw something spark in Sam's eyes that had been absent for the last couple of days.

Sam couldn't help a wide smile that slowly over took his face as he threw his arms around Dean.

"Don't knock me over! " Dean grunted though there was no barb in his voice.

And Sam could already feel that bonfire bursting back to life again.

Yeah, they had some things to work on and work out.

But they'd do that.

The important thing was that his inside was slowly starting not to match the outside.

It may have been a bit chilly outside but inside the frozen tundra was slowly coming back to life.

And this time Sam let it wholeheartedly.

"You know maybe we could get up, go back to the Impala and go back to the motel and crash for the rest of the night and tomorrow too at this rate." Here he paused, "Wait a minute, you know what? It's probably already tomorrow. Change of plans, we stay the rest of the day and then head out tomorrow morning, " He switched to a bad English accent, "That is if your highness Princess Samantha does not object."

"His highness Prince Sam", Sam countered pulling back with a fake(and better than Dean's) English accent, "would like that very much."

"It's scary you are talking about yourself in third person." Dean muttered as they both unfolded and stood.

Sam could hear his bones crack and Dean sniped playfully, "What the heck did you lift while I was gone? A car?"

"No, the Impala."

Dean's head snapped to Sam's his eyes narrowing. He saw the laughter in Sam's eyes as he leaned over and picked up the guns. He glanced down at it, glazing at them a little longer than Dean was comfortable with.

"Sam…." Dean warned.

Sam shook his head and looked up at Dean with a small smile. "I'm not Dean. We have a deal."

"Good, you honor your part, I honor mine and offing is out of the equation and not on the table."

Dean was pleased to hear no hesitation on Sam's part as he answered, "Deal."

It made something loosen in Dean. He still needed to keep a close eye on Sam for the next couple of days just for his own peace of mind. Just to make sure that Sam didn't relapse when he wasn't looking.

He would not make the same mistake twice.

And with that they both slowly walked out of the alley. They turned and saw that sun was rising. It was Sam that stopped first as they got to the Impala. He leaned on the hood and stared at the sunrise. Dean settled next to him, glancing down at his little brother's hand which held the guns. Slowly, still a little uncertain, he reached down and took the guns out of Sam's hand. He was pleased that there was no resistance on Sam's part. He only glanced at him with a smile and suddenly Dean grinned before turning and looking at the sunrise.

Both stood and enjoyed it.

They both knew for them the sun was doing more than bringing a new day.

It was bringing a new chance.

A brand new beginning.

A brand new warmth, that they both needed.

As the sun that rose on the outside, it rose on the inside as well.

**Fin.**

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Well, that's the end of this story! Once more, one of my semi-cheesy yet feel good endings, that even has me grinning. I thank you for riding on this with me, if you did.

Some final notes: I figure that if you fit this story where it's suppose to go, it could explain why Dean was pretty calm when Sam told him what happened btw him and Ruby in the future episodes. I dunno, looking back Dean did react better than I thought he would when he discovered especially that he and Ruby had slept together. I dunno, just a thought, I'm jotting down here.

Also, it seems in a LimpSam story of mine I cannot have a moment where the brothers don't hug or something. I dunno, I realized that in the last couple of stories. Not that I'm complaining. ;p

Once more thanks so much for reading this story! **  
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